


Find my way to you

by Bracefacefreak



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 9000 words of garbage, Fluff, Hopefully not too OOC, Hurt/Comfort, Hux has to save Kylo's ass....again, Hux-centric, I mean really, I'm Sorry, Kylo Ren Redemption, M/M, This is trash, redeemed!Hux, redeemed!Kylo, resistance!Hux, resistance!Kylo, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bracefacefreak/pseuds/Bracefacefreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux wakes with the feeling that something is very, very wrong. There's an insistent jabbing at the base of his skull and all he can think is wrong, Ren, danger.</p>
<p>Or Hux's bad morning becomes a bad day and then a bad week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find my way to you

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Kylux fic I've written and the first fic I've written in near on 3 years (university will do that do you.) I'm not expecting any response, it's mediocre at best and at worst it's the trashiest 9000 words I've ever written. However, I wanted to try my hand at writing these two (and at writing again in general) to see whether I'd like to write a more substantial, plotty piece in future and because I am garbage and I love them. We'll see.

Hux is not force sensitive. Not at all.

In fact, Ren has informed him on numerous occasions that he has met Bantha with more connection to the Force. Hux’s usual response is to scowl and make a snide remark about how he absolutely doesn’t give a fuck.

 

Therefore, it comes as something of a shock when he’s jolted awake an hour before his alarm feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. He can’t catch his breath. Pain shots through his chest.

 

For a moment he wonders whether someone on base has finally given into their urges, disobeyed orders and put a blaster bolt through him. He pulls back the covers, looking for blood.

The bed is damp, but there is no spreading red stain. It’s sweat, he realises with disgust, as a bead trickles from his hairline down the back of his neck causing him to shudder.

_But not dead,_ he thinks, _not yet_.

 

He tries to settle back down to sleep but he can’t; the bed is too empty, he’s too cold and there’s something unpleasant jabbing at the back of his mind.

 

Now Hux is no stranger to nightmares, he is woken from sleep by terrible, bloody images more than once a week and when it’s not him it’s Ren crying hoarsely into the night. He knows how to deal with the creeping dread and lingering nausea, has become at expert at it. Kicking back the damp covers, he props himself up against the pillows and opens up a file on his datapad that he’s half-way through reading. It’s at times like this he deeply misses Ren and his ridiculously large, gentle hands.

 

Still, something continues to niggle at him. This doesn’t feel like one of his normal nightmares; he has no memory of it for one, which is unusual. And he feels it, physically, like an ache deep in his bones.  The headache is not abnormal, except he’s never had one quite like this, where it feels like someone is ramming a durasteel poker up his nose and scrambling his brains around. _Wrong, Ren, danger_ are the only clear things he can make out in his addled mind.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, pushing those ideas to one side.

_It was just another nightmare_ ; he assures himself as he tries to focus on the words on the screen, it’s only because Ren isn’t here that he is feeling it so keenly. He casts a glance to the chrono on the short table that lies on his side of the bed. Only an hour till the morning shift begins, the boring tedium of work will take the edge off things.

 

\------

 

It doesn’t.

Two hours have passed since he woke and he feels no different. Every part of him aches, his head throbs and his thoughts remain hazy. The only thought that is in focus pulses at the edge of his mind where he’s been keeping it pushed aside: _something is wrong. Ren is in danger_.

 

Unable to take it any longer he stands, just about managing to stop his quaking knees from giving out beneath him and eases himself slowly towards the door.

 

From across the small room Meren, his supervisor, clears her throat.

 

“Where exactly do you think you’re going Hux?”

 

He turns to face her, watching her hands settle near the grip of her blaster which she always keeps unclipped, ready to be drawn. Everyone he works with is armed. He is not.

He swallows, finding it hard to form words amidst the dull throbbing that fills his entire body.

 

“I…I….need to find the…G…General,” he manages to croak. He is horrified at how much his voice shakes.

 

Meren raises one eyebrow and Hux doesn’t miss how her fingers have curled around the grip of her weapon.

 

“And what in stars’ name makes you think I’m going to….”

 

“You don’t understand…” he begins but stops at the hard look he is receiving.

 

They probably think he’s off to go and throttle their beloved leader. Why they think he’d wait nearly three years and then practically announce his intentions is beyond him; sometimes he despairs at the logic of this so called army.  

He casts another cursory glance towards her hand; she hasn’t yet lifted the blaster but he can tell her fingers are getting twitchy. Two years ago when he was still wallowing in shame he may have goaded her, happier with the idea of a hole in his head than having to live amongst these backwards oafs. Now, however the only thought his foggy brain can conjure up is _Ren, Ren, Ren_.

With that he clenches his jaw and swallows his pride.

 

“Please. Something is wrong.”

 

Whatever the resistance say about their moral high ground Meren seems to get an inordinate amount of pleasure from his pleading. The muscles at the corner of her mouth twitch and when he’s done she’s silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, enjoying letting him stew for a while.

 

Finally, she turns to Ox, the large, male twi-lek who normally sits beside Hux.

 

“Ox, can you escort Hux to the command centre, please?”

 

The twi-lek groans but rises obediently at his senior’s command, following Hux as he all but leaps out of the cabin.

 

\------

 

He has only been to the command centre a handful of times and only ever with an escort.

 

Beyond the heavy durasteel doors the room is a hive of activity and once more Hux is dumbfounded at how an organisation that appears to thrive on lack of order has won so many crucial battles in the galactic war. For stars’ sake he’s pretty sure someone is watching a holo-drama at one of the command stations in the corner! And there’s one mon-cal who can’t seem to help but bump into everything, one screen he brushes against starts to flash red before a harried looking lieutenant flicks a switch changing it back to blue!

 

Ox, who has stayed a pace or so behind Hux all the way here, now steps forward and leads the way towards the centre of the room. He keeps one hand locked firmly around Huxs wrist as they walk. Hux is certain the Twi’lek could snap it like a twig if he wanted to. A few people acknowledge Ox with a nod and smile as they pass by; all Hux receives are a few suspicious glares. Mostly he is ignored; the resistance’s dirty little secret. A spark of rage fizzles within him, but overwhelmingly he feels the steady burn of disgrace eating away at his insides. Even now sometimes he wishes he’d just taken the offer of execution and died a somewhat dignified death.

 

The feeling of eyes on him jolts him from his morbid contemplation. He stands before Leia Organa herself, and she is looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Hux can only hold her gaze for a moment, those brown eyes are too similar to someone else’s and he feels his stomach turn at the thought.

 

“Commander Meren asked me to bring him to see you General,” Ox drools in his thick Ryloth accent.

 

“And what is it that he wants?”

 

The question is directed at Hux, who shakes his wrist and feels Ox reluctantly relinquish his grip. He steps forward, poised to explain his unannounced appearance but now Hux is here he doesn’t really know what to say.

_I’m here because I felt something and I know your son is in danger, I have no evidence what-so-ever except that I feel sick and there’s an empty space at the back of my mind and…._ it all just sounds ridiculous!

 

Organa tilts her head as if in encouragement and Hux wonders whether she may have caught any of those thoughts. If she has, she doesn’t say anything; she is not one to show off, unlike her son. Hux takes a deep breath, in through his nose out through his mouth, and announces in the calmest way he can,

 

“Something has gone wrong with the mission to Vahal.”

 

Her eyes widen slightly. It’s almost unnoticeable but Hux has spent years training himself to read even the smallest of tells; it’s why he wins hands down at Sabac every time.

When she speaks she sounds a little hoarse.

 

“And what makes you say that Hux?”

 

“I had…” he looks around, a few people are watching the interaction now and he wishes he’d requested an audience in private, “I had a feeling and….” He steels himself, he hates talking about these things; it’s all so ludicrous. He leans forward slightly and drops his voice so that only she can hear him, “…it’s Ren…” her shoulders tighten, “….something has happened to Ren.”

 

They hold each other’s gaze for a second. Suddenly she spins on her heel to face her command team, they all stand to attention under her stern gaze. Hux is almost impressed.

 

“Connix, make the preparations as we discussed.”

 

The petite blonde nods her head sharply and hurries off.

 

She then turns back to Hux, for a moment it seems like she might reach out and take his elbow but she aborts the movement half-way through. Hux has never been more grateful. Instead she steps past him, her heels clicking on the stone floor as the sea of people part around her.

 

“Hux,” she snaps when he doesn’t make a move to follow her, “Come.”

 

He follows her through the crowd and into a small dark room. Both remain silent as she seats herself behind the small wooden desk and motions for Hux to sit too. He dawdles for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he reins in the desire to shout at her to do something!

She quirks an eyebrows, staring at him. With a sigh, he clenches his fists tight and drops heavily on the metal stool.

 

“Tell me exactly what happened Hux.”

He sighs and momentarily contemplates hitting his head against the side of the desk to see if that manages to get rid of these ridiculous thoughts. Instead, he settles with rubbing his face vigorously. Obviously, it doesn’t help.

 

“It was nothing really, just a feeling. I….I can’t describe it. I just know something is wrong.”

 

There’s a strange look on her face as she watches him; he doesn’t like it one bit.

 

“You have no reason to believe me. I have no evidence. It’s just….” He pauses, there’s something off about this whole scene. She seems far too unconcerned considering this is about the fate of her men, her own son for Maker’s sake…...

 

“Wait,” he narrows his eyes, “You know already.”

 

She has the audacity to look somewhat apologetic and he berates himself for being so damn slow.

 

“We received a communication for the group a few hours ago. It seems they have been apprehended by a faction of First Order loyalists,” her eyes flick up to meet his again and Hux’s already aching stomach churns, he feels bile rise in his throat.

 

She pulls a small transponder out of her pocket and places it down on the table top, flicking it to life.

A fuzzy, blue image appears; Hux doesn’t recognise the fellow but he does recognise the unnatural hum in the background.

 

“We have.....buzz……crackle….First Order loyalists…crackle…fallen. Ren is……fizz.....be able to hold them…..crackle….long…..help!”

 

Something explodes nearby, tilting the image to the side. It fizzles in static once more before dying altogether. Hux stares at the empty space where the holo had been.

Something hot and heavy settles behind his ribcage.

 

“Why didn’t someone tell me?”

 

She scowls.

 

“It does not affect your work Hux. There was no need to distract you.”

 

“That is not what I meant,” he snaps, eyes burning.

 

Organa’s expression softens a little at his outburst. She looks almost pitying. Hux feels the skin at the back of his neck prickle in response.

 

“A ship is being stocked as we speak. Commander Dameron is taking a team to Vahal tonight…..”

 

“I should go with them,” he interrupts.

 

He keeps his face impassive, something he has always excelled at, despite the fact his heart is beating so fast it feels it might burst from his chest. All he can think about is that he needs to be on that ship, needs to be out there helping, needs to find Ren.

Opposite him her features have steeled again, but the sigh she gives is tired and regretful.

 

“That is impossible,” she begins, “You know the terms of your surrender. You are not permitted to be involved in any active field work.” He grinds his teeth so hard he thinks one might snap. “You agreed to that when you first arrived here.”

 

Hux thinks back to that morning nearly three years ago now; slipping down the uneven landing ramp certain that he would be shot on sight. He would have been too if it hadn’t been for Ren. His avenging angel had stood fearlessly between him and the battalion, arms outstretched holding twenty blaster bolts at bay.

The next few days had passed in a blur of holding cells and questions. He had not been present from most of the negotiations regarding his ‘freedom’ and he still was not fully aware of the exact things Ren had promised or forfeited to keep him from the firing squad.

This specific clause, however, he remembered signing his name against. He’d never considered it would be a problem, but then if he’s honest he’s never really envisioned the idiot getting himself captured quite so easily.  

 

“I know but….”

 

Organa replies with a stern shake of her head.

 

“There are no buts. I cannot give you leeway on this Hux. It is out of my control.”  

 

“I can be useful. I know these people. I know their tactics, their default procedures, what they will and won’t be expecting. No one else here can offer you that level of insight.”

 

His words are clipped but his tone is bordering on frantic; his palms sting where his nails bite in, no doubt drawing blood without the protection his gloves once afforded.

 

If Ren were here….he stops.

 

No use thinking about that now; he’s not here but Hux will not let himself rest until he is back.

 

Her expression is unreadable but something glimmers in the depths of her eyes that sends a shiver down his spine. He recognises that look; it’s only ever bought him trouble.

 

“This is non-negotiable Hux. I cannot have you swanning off into First Order territory, back to men who may well have been under your command at some point in the past and may still have some loyalty to their General…”

 

And there it is, Hux thinks bitterly to himself, the true reason.

 

She continues to talk but Hux is not listening anymore.

He has never been one for fiery outbursts of passion, even as a child.

He was bred to order his emotions, keep them in line and to never let them rule him.

‘To be overcome with passion of any sort, that was when great men fell’-his father’s words had hung over everything he had ever done, shaping him into the man who had enslaved a Sun and used it for beautiful, terrible destruction.

 

Of course, then Ren had stormed into his life, wild and chaotic, and ruined everything. Something he is inexpressibly thankful for, despite everything.

 

Still, uncontrollable anger is still an emotion Hux rarely experiences.

 

Now an icy wave of rage sweeps over him…. **BANG!**

He slams his fists down onto the polished wood in front of him. The general falls silent and for a split second he feels like his past self; youngest military commander in First Order history, commander of the fleet, General Aaryan Hux.

 

“Have I not proven my loyalty to you?” he snaps, words full of cold fury, “I have been here for nearly three years and not once have I ever given you any reason to doubt my commitment to you and your cause.”

 

Her face twists into a strange shape, all harsh lines at a strange angle. He’s seen a similar expression on Ren’s face when he’s upset and it is enough to knock all of the air out of him for a moment. 

She uses his sudden silence to reply, her tone sounds harsher now and Hux wonders whether he has lost whatever small advantage he had gained.

 

“You are committed to _one_ of us. That does not equate to being committed to what we stand for.”

What can he say to that? It’s true. If Ren miraculously appeared in the doorway now and announced he was leaving immediately Hux would follow. The place he has carved at Ren’s side over years of fighting and fucking and eventually something is the only place he’s ever truly belonged; he is smart enough to admit that.

 

Realising that he is losing, he chooses to change tactics. He is a master strategist of course, and not just on the battlefield. Besides he’s already begged this morning, another round of grovelling is hardly going to damage what little reputation he has.

 

He clasps his hands on top of the desk, widens his eyes and forces his lips into the saddest most desperate frown he can muster.

 

“Please. I cannot just sit here and wait for Dameron and his bunch of goons...”

 

“Hux!”

 

“I will not!”

 

Her voice is gentle and verging on kind when she speaks his name again. Her arms are stretched across the desktop towards his, their hands not quite touching. Something twinkles in her eyes.

 

“As I said this is out of my jurisdiction. I cannot sanction you for active service. All I can do is reassure you that a group of highly trained officers will be leaving the base from Landing Bay 5 at 0200 to go and find the captives. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he says with a sharp nod.

 

She leans back in her chair with a deep sigh.

She looks older than she did when they’d entered the office; the bruise-like bags under her eyes are darker and there are more deep set lines around her downturned mouth. At times like this it is hard to equate her to the vibrant young woman he had seen and so intensely hated in all the propaganda films of his childhood.

 

“Right,” she says wearily and tilts her head in the direction of the door, “you are dismissed.”

 

Hux rises slowly from his chair; he opens his mouth to speak but she waves her hands and points towards the door.

 

He has one foot through the door when she pipes up again.

 

“And Hux,” he turns to look at her and he swears she is giving him a soft smile, “you are not the only one on this base who cares about his safe return.”

 

Hux’s throat feels thick as he nods once more and steps out through the doorway, her words ringing in his head.

 

\------

 

Hux waits by Bay 5 from midnight, not trusting the resistance’s haphazard approach to timing and unable to do anything but pace their quarters anyway. His mind is working at double speed, constantly forming, adjusting and reforming plans, seeking the optimum contingency for the assault on Vahal.

 

He is woken from his formulations by a large thud and some choice curse words. Stepping out from behind the storage crates he is met by the sight of three raised blasters. Dameron stands at the front of the group, all perfectly tousled hair and casual smiles; he is the first to lower his gun when he recognises Hux. The man to his left, Apley Hux’s brain supplies, instantly follows his commander’s lead and lowers his own. FN21….Finn is the last to drop his aim.

 

“Hux,” Dameron said, he nods curtly but keeps a fair amount of distance between them.

 

He expects to have to battle his way onto the ship, the same way he had done with Organa but Poe merely turns around and points to a few crates waiting on the edge of the tarmac.

 

“If you’re coming then you can help us with the last bits of loading.”

 

Hux tentatively steps forward, surprised by how easy that was and somewhat missing the chance of some good old verbal sparring.

 

He feels Finn’s eyes follow his every move as he helps stack the last few crates of supplies and weapons before helping the fifth member of the crew, a small Mirialan female, get them up the loading ramp.

 

They leave at 0200 exactly. It’s the first time Hux has been off world in a year and a half.

 

\------

 

It takes them a few hours to reach Vahal. The flight is unremarkable. No-one talks to Hux, although Katinara the Mirialan offers a few tight smiles throughout the journey.

 

They land not far from the base where the distress signal had originated and Hux has to do his upmost to stay still as Dameron debriefs them and hands out their weapons. A small, short range blaster is shoved into his hands, not unlike the one he had kept strapped to his leg during his time as General. Dameron gives him a hard look as Hux assesses its weight and peers down the sight to check the alignment.

 

“Don’t worry,” he sneers as he slips the small gun into the back of his trousers, “I’m not going to shoot any of you.”

 

There’s an awkward silence. Finn is staring daggers at his head while the others exchange uneasy looks. Hux rolls his eyes at their lack of sense of humour, although he admits it probably wasn’t the best thing to day given the situation they were walking into. He blames Ren and his stupid decision to get captured.

 

They leave the ship in pairs, half expecting an ambush as they cross the clearing. Nothing happens.

 

The base appears deserted when they arrive.

It’s a mess, the blast doors have been blown apart by a powerful explosion and blaster burns streak the walls. Wordlessly, Poe motions for them to split up: Hux and Katinara are sent left towards the command centre whilst the others take the remaining areas of the small building. He is somewhat surprised to find that they work well as a pair, taking it in turns to clear each doorway they pass until they make it to their goal.

 

The command centre has clearly taken heavy fire in the recent battle. The computer equipment is barely recognisable, just a lump of melted plastic and metal, one corner of the ceiling had fallen in and the far wall looks worryingly unstable. Hux catches sight of a foot sticking out of a pile of rubble and bites back the callous chuckle that forms in his throat; after all, Katinara wouldn’t approve and he needs to try and keep the team on side, at least until they find Ren.  He bumps his foot against a lump of grey which he thinks may have been a stool at one point and wonders, hopes, that the others have found something more useful in their search than a mass of useless melted garbage.

 

**BANG!**

 

Beside him Katinara startles violently.

 

**BANG!**

 

Hux pulls out his blaster, slipping the safety off and runs towards the direction of the shots. Katinara follows on his heels, her own blaster drawn.

 

The sight that meets them is non-too-impressive.

Finn has already disabled the two men and is powering down his green blade as Hux skids into the room. There’s an audible gasp from one of the men, who seems to have stopped fussing over his smoking wound and is instead staring at Hux, open-mouthed and stupid-looking. He doesn’t recognise either of them.

 

“G-General?” he stammers and Hux both shudders and straightens upon hearing his old title.

 

The moment is broken as Poe appears in the doorway. He looks frantically between Finn and the uniformed men on the floor.

 

“Is everything all right here.”

 

“Under control Commander,” Finn says.

 

Poe’s eyes flashes to the lightsaber held in his hand and the briefest hint of a smile appears on his face. Poe enters the room, looking more authoritative than Hux has ever seen before. He stands in front of the two men, looking down at them with calm but stern eyes.

 

“I see we have some visitors. And you are, gentlemen?”

 

The man who had spoken before pulls an ugly face and attempts to spit at Poe’s feet, it comes out more as an embarrassing dribble.

 

“You’ll get nothing from us Rebel scum.”

 

Poe hums then turns on his heel to fall back beside Finn. They begin to talk in hushed tones casting odd glances back to the two men every now and again to keep them on their toes.

One of them turns to Hux.

 

“So the rumours are true…” the young man’s slack face reforms itself into hard lines, “TRAITOR!”

 

Hux steels himself against the insult; the guilt is not new and over the last years he has learned, albeit with much reassurance from Ren, to deal with the intense feelings. Besides today he has more important issues to deal with.

He turns his back on the man, who continues to spout vitriol and inserts himself into Poe and Finn’s quiet discussion.

The pilot glances up at the intrusion but does nothing to move Hux away, in fact he makes a slight motion inviting his opinion on how to deal with their captives. Hux has many ideas, many of which would be completely unthinkable to the other members of the group.

 

“Give me five minutes alone with them,” he mock-whispers back, eyes flicking to the silent younger man who is visibly trembling next to his cursing colleague, “I’ll make them talk.”

 

Poe looks uncertain.

Finn scowls, hand snapping out to lock itself firmly around Hux’s wrist.

 

“No.” He looks to Poe, pleading, “Let me try first.”

 

Dameron looks from one to the other slowly then nods to Finn, setting his hand gently on the other man’s shoulder and squeezing. In return, Finn offers a small smile, his eyes shining with gratitude. Hux suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something deeply personal. He hurriedly steps back towards Apley and Katinara. Dameron follows not far behind.

 

They leave Finn in the room with the two men, although Hux isn’t convinced that he will get anything useful out of them. They’re just wasting time! He considers fighting Poe on the decision, explaining that trying to win them over isn’t going to work. First order interrogation resistance training is thorough; to break these men you need to know the weakness of the programme and by able to exploit them. Finn may know what to do, but Hux knows he won’t be willing to do it. He, on the other hand…. A hand squeezes his shoulder. Poe. There’s an odd expression on his face, a mixture between concern and wariness.

“You okay?”

 

Hux nods.

 

Whether Poe notices his dark look or whether he’s just as antsy about Finn’s interrogation he decides to split them up again. Hux is sent to the back rooms that Finn hadn’t reached, whilst Katinara and Apley are told to loop back and check anything they may have missed on their way in.

 

With these new orders, Hux forces himself to calm down. Right now he needs to be useful. Who knows, maybe they’ll find something else to lead them to Ren. Let the ex-trooper have ten minutes. Then he’ll take over.

 

He finds nothing; no clues to the men’s current whereabouts and no other skulking officers to extract the details from.

 

Disheartened, he heads back. Dameron is waiting, a pained expression on his face. Finn is nowhere to be seen and Hux feels poisonous words fizzing at the tip of his tongue. He takes a step towards the dark doorway, no longer willing to wait, but is stopped by Dameron’s firm grip on his shoulder.

 

“Let’s go and find the other two.”

 

Hux wants to argue. There’s a tight feeling in his head and his muscle are tense, ready to pounce. Instead he nods curtly and follows the commander out of the hallway.

 

They find Katinara and Apley in a small storeroom. It’s completely ransacked; there are broken boxes flung around, their contents strewn across the floor.  Momentarily Hux wonders whether this is Ren’s doing. He can see him in his mind’s eye; a tall, imposing figure dressed in black flinging the boxes towards the oncoming attackers, face set in that determined expression which makes him look impossibly handsome….He forces the thought away, stomach roiling. The two members of their team are crouched amidst the chaos, they look like they are looking at something but Hux can only see their backs from where he is. Apley stretches out a hand towards whatever-it-is they’re looking at and Hux feels a sudden pain behind his ribs. He clutches at his chest.

 

“Stop!”

 

Apley jerks upwards, looking like a schoolboy who’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Hux isn’t sure what he’s doing even as he storms forward. He can feel Dameron’s gaze follow him across the room. As soon as he casts his eyes on the object that had caught their attention things make a little more sense.

There’s silence for what seems like an age; the tense nothingness seems to upset Apley who stretches his hand towards the offending item again.

 

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH IT!”

 

Apley recoils sharply, fingers closing around empty air. It’s still too close for Hux’s liking. He drops heavily to his knees, joints cracking with the impact, he’s glad to note Apley’s inconspicuous shift away. His heart is in his throat and his eyes feel prickly as he slowly reaches forward and picks up the well-known object.

 

The lightsaber’s casing is rough, there are deep marks scattered across the black-grey metal, scars from previous battles. Hux knows they have siblings on its owner’s skin, marks he has traced countless times late at night when he can’t sleep. It’s warm too, he only has to close his eyes and he can almost make himself believe that Ren has just handed it to him, the gentle heat having leached from those marvellous hands. The illusion is only shattered when Ren’s hands fail to trace his features and the quiet, Ren could never be silent for this long. A sob of grief claws its way up his throat and he has to muster all his self-control to keep it down; he bites his lip so hard he tastes blood. He holds the saber tenderly bringing it up to hold it tight against his chest, fingers lovingly tracing each imperfection.

 

_He still remembers the first time he had taken the weapon in hand; Ren been in retreat for two-weeks and, although Hux would never have admitted it, he was just about ready to go stir crazy.  As if hearing his thoughts (to be honest that was probably exactly what had happened) Ren had emerged, the new weapon held aloft and an enormous grin spread across his face. Hux remembers thinking how insufferably smug he looked….and also how kissable, so he’d pressed their lips together. His self-control was always compromised when Ren was involved._

_“Watch,” Ren had breathed against his lips as they’d parted, before he’d drawn away to a safe distance and ignited the blade, swinging it round with joyous abandon. Hux had to hide his gasp behind a cough as he watched him twirl the glowing orange blade with skill._

_After a moment Ren had switched it off, he didn’t look at Hux as he sheepishly asked whether he liked it. For a good few moments Hux hadn’t been able to find his voice. Eventually he cleared his throat, blinked his tears away and had told Ren that yes, he liked it very much, although obviously with a few choice insults thrown in._

_After all, it wouldn’t do well to let Ren know how in awe he was in that moment._

_Ren had only laughed, he looked so damn happy that Hux hadn’t been able to stop himself chuckling._

_Suddenly the mood shifted; Ren’s face had hardened although there was no anger in his eyes, instead only a steely determination which seemed to have focused itself on Hux. It left him breathless._

_Ren shoved the lightsaber into Hux’s hands, then wrapped his own palms over the top so that they were both holding the weapon. He then dropped to his knees, forcing Hux to bend over with him._

_“Ren, what in blaze….”_

_“Shhh, just let me…..”_

_Ren had cleared his throat, sighed and looked into Hux’s eyes._

_“It has long been said that a Jedi’s lightsaber is their life. I may not be a Jedi but this is one sentiment I can agree with. This lightsaber is me, my life….and now I give it you.”_

_Hux had started but Ren’s grip around his had only tightened. His eyes were wide, honest, pleading with Hux to accept his offer._

_“I know we don’t always agree and our….relationship didn’t begin in the most conventional way…” Hux had snorted but the trembling smile that followed had given away his true feelings, “…but you must know how I feel, that I….” He’d paused, unable to continue and then in a very-Ren-way had shoved Hux’s hands to his chest and stepped back, hunching his shoulders and shifting uneasily from foot to foot._

_“Anyway it’s yours, if you want it. Take it or leave, whatever. I mean….”_

_Hux had stopped his horrendous display of self-doubt with a firm kiss, his hands cradling Ren’s face._

_“Thank you,” he murmured softly, pressing a second chaste kiss to the side of his mouth, “Thank you,” this time to his nose, “Thank you,” and his cheek._

_Ren had grumbled in reply but visibly relaxed, fond eyes watching the other man’s every move._

_Hux had kept the weapon clasped tightly against his chest, close to his heart, as he continued to kiss a trail across Ren’s stupid face. He felt weightless with unrivalled joy, yet something tugged unpleasantly in his chest._

_“I have nothing to give you,” he said when he’d eventually pulled away. Ren had given that low gorgeous chuckle of his, one finger running over Hux’s bottom lip in a way that made Hux’s brain short-circuit._

_“You don’t have to.”_

_“I want to.” Hux had assured, desperate to show Ren that his affection was matched, “I know I may not… it may not always seem like it but….”. He was rambling; he never rambled. Ren’s cupped his cheek, expression soft and Hux decided it was worth trying again if it meant he got to see more of that look on his partner’s face._

_“The first half of my life was utterly devoted to the First Order and its victory. Now, I don’t know what my future holds, defecting was never something I planned for and I planned for almost everything, but I do know that whatever happens I want you to be at my side, for all of it.”_

_Ren surged forward, almost knocking Hux off his feet, mouth hot and desperate as Hux grasped for any part of him he could reach._

_“Wait.”_

_Reluctantly he pried himself away from Ren. His hands reached for his neck and the two plain tags he’d worn there since his induction into the academy at 7 years old. What better representation of him and his life?…He held the chain up between the two of them, watched as Ren’s eyes widened in realisation, then looped the chain around his lovers neck. Hus life, now Ren’s. Ren gave him that smile, the goofy one with all the teeth that only Hux had ever seen, and pulled him close, long arms enfolding him all around. Warmth. Safe. Home. _

 

He pushes the memory aside with more than a little reluctance. He doesn’t know how long he was crouched there, but by the looks of Apley’s face it was long enough to seem unusual. Slowly, he draws himself back up to his full height. He looks down at the lightsaber a final time, squeezing it tightly in a silent promise, before pocketing it. The weapon is heavy, pulling one side of his jacket down more than the other and leaving him feeling slightly unbalanced; he wouldn’t have it any other way. It feels….not quite good, good would be seeing the saber in Ren’s hands, but like he has a part of Ren with him. Newly bolstered, he starts to head back towards the room where they’d left Finn.

 

The others follow in silence. No-one questions him about what had just happened but Poe places a hand on his shoulder. Hux gets the impression that for once someone other than Ren may understand him just a little.

 

Finn has had little success with the First Order officers when they reach him. Hux is unsurprised but doesn’t say a word, allowing Finn to finish his debrief. When Poe finally turns to him, brows drawn and face blank, he’s more than ready. He sets his shoulders, straightens his back and strolls forward looking ever the General, he thinks if Ren were here to see him he’d be proud (and probably very turned on.)

 

Four and a half minutes later Hux steps out of the room, face grim but the coordinates of the loyalist’s base branded in his memory. He glances down at his bloodied knuckles with satisfaction.  In a pleasant surprise, it had been the mouthy one who had broken first and with very little persuasion. He’d added a few extra blows in punishment for the disgusting language the officer had used earlier.

 

Everyone straightens as he approaches. Finn looks nervously at his bloodied hand but does nothing else, if anything there’s a glimmer of softness about his features as he looks at him. Hux wonders if Poe had mentioned the incident with the lightsaber. Perhaps he’ll ask Ren if there is any way of removing memories when all this is over.

 

“They say their base is on the third moon. I have the co-ordinates. We should get going as soon as possible, I say we have an hour before our friends here are missed and all element of surprise we have is lost.”

 

Poe nods, he looks towards the door and then back to Hux with hard eyes.

Hux snorts violently, openly rolling his eyes.

 

“They’re both alive. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that Commander. Personally I say shoot them, but whatever it is you chose to do please do it quickly.”

 

 

\-----

They break into the base with little difficulty, partly because of Katinara’s expertise with bypassing security systems and partly because Hux knows every trick they’re likely to meet.

 

Once inside things get a bit trickier. The loyalist’s responsible are clearly under-trained and poorly led (Hux is almost sad at how far his once-mighty war machine has fallen), but they make up for it with their ruthless attitude and new guns. The initial fire-fight is viscous; Hux’s arm is grazed by a blaster bolt that gets just a little too close and Poe takes a blow to the head when a nearby detonator goes off. They manage to barricade themselves in a side room long enough for the commander to return to his senses and for them to reload their weapons.

 

“Perhaps we should retreat and call the resistance for reinforcements?” Apley asks, he’s bleeding from a small shrapnel graze just above his right eye. Poe looks at him for a moment as if he’s actually considering the option.

Hux growls.

 

“If we leave now we’ll have lost all element of surprise and by the time we have more troops they’ll be long gone. The troops out there are poorly trained, they lack discipline and strategy. We have that advantage and that is all we need.”

 

Poe nods, a cocksure smile dawning on his face and Katinara pats his shoulder in agreement. Even Finn looks mildly impressed. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives Hux the first smile he’s ever had from the ex-trooper.

 

“All right then,” Finn begins, “What’s your plan?”

 

The strategy works. From inside the room Katinara manages to hack the system and black out the lights in the large entrance area.  Hux and Apley slip through the door in the semi-darkness, in each hand they hold a couple of stun charges. They’ve only just made it to the cover of a stack of supply crates when the lights flicker back on. The timing was a little tighter than Hux expected, but things are still going to plan. The distraction comes next. After all, stun charges are great as long as the enemy don’t see them coming and they don’t move out of range. Also they only have six charges so they only have one shot at this. They need to get it right. Exactly on cue Poe and Finn emerge from the room, Poe shooting while Finn attempts to deflect any bolts with his blade. Once assured that the loyalists are too busy firing to notice the small, grey balls rolling towards them Hux and Apley let the grenades go. In less than four seconds all blaster fire ceases and they’re surrounded by a number of unconscious troops in first order uniform. Each one is disarmed, thoroughly searched, then bundled into an empty side room which is locked with a blaster bolt to the locking mechanism.

 

After the first assault they meet relatively few problems. As Hux had predicted whoever is in charge here is terrible at their job; they had sent the majority of the small squad they had to fight at the front door, leaving the rest of the base relatively unguarded.

 

The commander herself poses the only real trouble, having kept a group of four of the best troops back to protect herself. Hux manages to take down two. He’s riding high on adrenaline by the time Finn has his lightsaber blade up against the commander’s throat and Poe is disarming her of her weapon.

 

After that it’s simple to get her to tell them where the prisoners are.

 

\------

 

Hux doesn’t even attempt to override the key code, he just blasts the damn thing. Around him are the scorched remains of a dozen lizard-like creatures and their crudely built frames. With the creatures gone Hux feels more normal, the dark empty space at the back of his mind is gradually replaced by that warm familiar presence.

ALIVE! Hux’s brain seems to cry in triumphant response. ALIVE!  

The door zips open, but even that is too slow for Hux’s liking. He launches himself across the threshold; in any other circumstance he would be disgusted at his own desperation but three weeks without Ren and the events of the last 36 hours has stripped him of any of his normal self-control.

 

There is a man sized lump curled in the corner of the room, at the sound of the door it shifts and unfurls, making a pained sound as it does so. The sound makes Hux’s blood boil.

 

Across the room Ren blinks, his eyes are bleary and red and the light spilling from the doorway seems to hurt him, he groans again and raises an arm to cover his face. Hux feels an intense need to shoot out the fluorescent strips. Instead he slips to his knees and shuffles forward slowly, not wanting to startle the man. When he’s close enough he places his hands ever so gently on Ren’s ankles, running his hands up his calves to rest on his knees. Ren has lowered his arm now and is looking straight at him, giving Hux the ability to survey the damage that those bastards had done to his beloved. There’s a lot of blood, one of Ren’s eyes is swollen shut and from the looks of his swollen, lopsided mouth his jaw is broken. Hux has to use ever iota of his strength to stop himself from leaving the room and hacking every one of Ren’s surviving captors into tiny little pieces, then burning those pieces into ash. Hux is certain that being drenched in their enemy’s blood is the only way he will ever feel satisfied.

 

“Hux?” Ren slurs, his voice rough. He reaches out a bloodied hand and traces a large finger from Hux’s cheekbone to his lip. The action settles Hux slightly; perhaps he can wait a while before going on his murderous rampage. He doesn’t trust his voice at the moment so answers Ren by leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 

“It’s me. I’m here. Don’t speak.”

 

For once Ren actually listens to him and remains silent. It riles him again, normally Ren would be shouting for a fight or at least spewing some half-hearted jokes at Hux’s expense; the unnatural silence only serves to remind Hux how close he could have come to losing him and his vision turns red.

_It took you long enough_.

The thought pushes itself into his mind, not his but not unfamiliar either. Hux sighs, the red receeding slightly, of course Ren wouldn’t let him have the last word, even with a broken jaw.

 

“You’ve only been gone 36 hours, you dolt,” he replies softly, his eyes roaming hungrily over Ren’s features. Even covered in grime and blood and having not showered in at least 3 days by the smell of him he is still the best sight Hux has ever seen. He can’t stop the small soft smile that creeps onto his face.

Ren blinks at him with his one good eye, looking confused and Hux wonders how long he thought it’d been, whether he’d ever doubted that Hux would come for him.

 

_STOP THAT!_ The words surge into Hux’s head in a rush of pain and anger. _Of course I knew you would come. You’ve said it before, many times, no one else gets to have the pleasure of killing me but you. As if you’d let these nerf herders take that privilege away from you._

 

The joke however is lost on Hux. He chokes on a sob wanting nothing more than to wrap Ren in his arms and never let anything hurtful or bad or remotely unpleasant touch the man again, preferably at the same time as very slowly killing his captors. He had failed, failed to protect the one thing in the galaxy he loved and who for some unknown reason loved him back. First Starkiller, then the Order and now this….he can’t even kiss him properly because of his stupid broken jaw and…..He slams his hand against the hard metal floor and allows the sudden rush of pain to soothe his tumultuous thoughts.

Ren’s hand immediately finds his, large palm wrapping around Hux’s smaller one in some kind attempt to prevent him from hurting himself. He doesn’t deserve it.

_Hush. None of that now. You found me. I’m fine. I’m fine._

 

Hux snorts because it’s so clearly obvious that he is not fine and even now Ren, bloody and battered as he is, is trying to make him feel better. Pathetic. Something feather-light and not-quite-there brushes against his cheek, Hux looks up at his partner but the other man gives nothing away, his eyes unfocused and lop-sided mouth hanging open. Hux opens his mouth to say something but can’t find the words he wants.

 

“I’m going to slaughter them all,” he eventually snarls, it wasn’t what he wanted to say but he runs with it, allowing all the anger and hate to sweep him up and steamroll the pain and inadequacy and disgust he feels about himself.

 

Inside his head Ren chuckles and by the Maker, has Hux missed that stupid sound.

 

_Could we save the slaughtering till later? Right now I’d settle for a nice bed and about two weeks of sleep. You’re welcome to join._

“Oh don’t you worry,” Hux says, swinging one of Ren’s giant arms over his shoulder and carefully levering him to standing. Ren takes a harsh, shuddering breath and Hux hates the fact that whatever he does seems to cause the other man pain, “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

 

Ren laughs again, softer more intimate, it feels like someone nuzzling gently against his thoughts. Hux savours the feeling.

 

_Hmmm. That sounds perfect._

_\------_

 

Hux watches Ren’s eyelids flicker once, twice, three times before the man finally opens his eyes.

 

He leans over, smoothing his hand over Ren’s forehead and brushing a few stray strands of dark hair back into some semblance of order. The bacta and bone-repair have done wonders, you could hardly tell that the man had only recently escaped 36 hours of torture.

 

“Hello pet,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Like bantha dung.”

Hux looks at him fondly. Stars, has he missed that voice!

 

“You don’t look much better,” he teases. Kylo glowers in response, but the edges of his mouth quirks slightly. Hux presses his lips against the slight curl of lips with a relieved sigh.

 

“I take it you missed me then,” Kylo mumbles as they part; he reaches out the arm closest to Hux and tangles their fingers together, squeezing tightly.

 

“Certainly. I couldn’t sleep at all without you snoring in my ear….”

 

“I don’t….” Kylo stops himself, chuckles and Hux almost can’t control the joy bubbling up inside him, a smile spreads across his face. Not the cruel smirk he wore throughout his military career, but one which makes crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes, one he only ever allows his partner to see. Kylo smiles in return, a proper smile, crooked teeth and all.

 

Slowly, he lifts their joined hands pressing a kiss to the back of Hux’s, Hux feels his heart skip a beat. It still makes him marvel what this ridiculous man can do to him with the smallest of gestures.

 

His smile becomes a frown however as Ren shuffles across the mattress, wincing as he does so. Hux stands, ready to scold his lover but finds himself suddenly bowled over, an invisible hand sweeping him up. The next thing he knows he is lying on the narrow medical cot facing Ren, who’s grin has become even larger.

 

“That is not fair,” Hux grouches. He attempts to get up and return to his chair but Kylo is too fast, arms wrapping themselves around his torso and one leg twisting itself over his hip until he relents and sinks into the mattress. It’s firm but comfortable and his muscles practically hum after having spent nearly three days sat on the hard little stool watching over his partner.

 

“How long since you last slept?” Kylo asks, although Hux would bet anything he already has a good idea.

 

Still Hux thinks back. He’s had snatches of sleep between the regular visits of the medical staff and other members of the resistance, but if he’s honest he hasn’t slept properly since the night of Ren’s capture. Mostly his own worry has kept him up, eyes constantly tracing the screens showing his beloved’s vital signs or the lines of his face to look for any signs of distress. Kylo pulls him closer, obviously seeing Hux’s answer through their connection. Hux fights it for a moment but quickly relaxes into his embrace, resting his head against Ren’s solid chest and allowing the steady beat of his heart to sooth his frayed nerves.

 

“You’re the one who’s spent four days in an induced coma, how is it you’re comforting me?”

 

His complaint is ruined by the large yawn that interrupts him half way through. Ren quirks an eyebrow. Hux decides to kiss that damn smug look right off his face.

 

“Shhhh,” Ren hushes when he pulls away, not far though, they’re still sharing the same air, “You’ve spent so long looking after me…rescuing me. Let me return the favour.”

He nuzzles at Hux’s hairline and although hardly one for all these public displays of affection Hux allows it, even lets himself enjoy it this once. Besides he doesn’t think he has the energy to fight Kylo off at the moment, he feels drained, every limb aching and heavy. Maybe it’s some sort of force-trick, or maybe he just really is that exhausted.

 

“You had me really worried you know,” Hux finds himself slurring as he drifts on the brink of consciousness, tongue loosened now with fatigue and the overwhelming feeling of safety he feels here in Ren’s arms. He lets his eyes slip shut. “Scared I would never see your big, stupid face again.”

Kylo chuckles, the bobbing of his chest lulls Hux even more.

“You do anything like this again and I’ll just have to lock you in our quarters for the rest of the war.”

 

Ren presses his mouth against Hux’s forehead, it’s not quite a kiss but the warmth of his breath against Hux’s skin is comforting.

 

“Hmmm. I think I like the sound of that,” he says and Hux can practically see the hungry look he’s being given. If he had more energy he’d roll his eyes. As it is, he simply thinks as loudly as he can.

_I hate you._ There is no malice behind the words, only complete and utter adoration.

 

He can feel Ren’s smile where his face is pressed against his skin, the arms around him pull him closer until every inch of them is touching and yet somehow it still doesn’t feel quite close enough.

_I know_ , Ren replies simply projecting the words straight into Hux’s mind. Hux smiles and drifts off to sleep, happy in the knowledge they are both safe and alive and whole and that Kylo will be there when he wakes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you managed to get through that trash, thank you. I hope you enjoyed some of it at least.


End file.
